Chapter Four
LOGAN
Logan Mathews clasped Abby’s hand on the couch cushion between them, holding his breath as Carla rooted through her beat-up briefcase.
“As you know,” Carla said, retrieving an overstuffed file, “Max’s case is unusual.”
Abby must have sensed his nervous energy through her fingertips because she tightened her grip.
“True,” Carla conceded with a kind smile. “Between his mother’s death as an infant, his father’s disappearance last year, and the absence of extended family, his situation is one of my most challenging.”
“Not to mention all the other garbage the poor kid’s been through.
” The muscles in Logan’s jaw still tensed whenever Max’s traumatic past sprang to mind.
The foster family who used him as manual labor and pocketed all the money from the state without spending a single dime on Max’s well-being, all while they ran an illicit operation selling pilfered Social Security and credit card numbers.
Then, more recently, the woman who posed as Max’s long-lost relative and nearly abducted him, all because Max had unwittingly taken a notebook filled with stolen credit card numbers.
The kid had been through the ringer, and Logan would do whatever it took to give him a better life.
“Exactly,” Carla agreed, flipping open the file on her lap. “Max has experienced enough trauma, which is why we need to proceed carefully.”
Uh-oh. Logan stiffened. Proceed carefully didn’t sound good.
Was Carla going to turn down their adoption request?
At the possibility, a heavy weight pressed against his chest, matching the suffocating force of pulling high Gs.
He needed to get off the couch, to walk around and shake it off, but he couldn’t move.
Abby laced her fingers through his, pressing their palms together as if she could transfer her superhuman strength via physical touch.
He met her gaze, amazed by the hopeful resiliency reflected in her hazel eyes, tempering his own fear and uncertainty. Not for the first time, he marveled at the unfathomable blessing that a woman like Abby would choose him.
Whatever bad news Carla brought to the table, they would get through it together. Logan squeezed Abby’s hand in solidarity.
“I’ve been researching your request, and here’s where we hit a few snags.
” Carla glanced between them, her countenance soft and sympathetic.
“If we were dealing with a general paternal abandonment case, Max would likely be eligible for adoption after six months, as long as his father didn’t provide any financial support or communication during that time.
However, Max’s situation isn’t that simple.
Technically, his father is considered a missing person, and in most missing person cases, you need to wait five years before they can be declared deceased, per California law. ”
“Five years?” Abby whispered, the disappointment in her voice mirroring his own.
“But everyone knows Sam Bailey’s fishing boat went down in a storm,” Logan pointed out, battling his mounting desperation. He’d wait five years to adopt Max if he had no other choice, but he wasn’t ready to give up on a quicker solution just yet.
“That may be true. But since neither a boat nor a body has been recovered, it’s still a missing person case.
” Carla’s round, pleasant features strained with regret.
Logan knew the compassionate social worker didn’t like the situation any more than they did.
“However,” she added with the slow, cautious inflection of someone choosing their words carefully.
“I could pressure the court to evaluate the extenuating circumstances. There is precedence for what’s called an expedited presumption of death based on the nature of the person’s disappearance and their likelihood of survival.
If the outcome is in our favor, it’s possible adoption proceedings could begin much sooner.
Would you like me to pursue this course of action? ”
“Yes, of course,” Abby blurted, breathless with even the slightest chance of moving things along. She fixed Logan with her eager gaze, waiting for him to voice his agreement.
But the words wouldn’t come. Time seemed to slow, then spiral in reverse.
Suddenly, he was seven years old again, listening to his grandparents recount the fatal car accident that took his parents away.
He’d refused to believe they were really gone.
For weeks, his naive hope and optimism had comforted him like a warm embrace, making the world bearable.
When he’d finally confronted their deaths, the overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness had terrified him.
It was the biggest, scariest emotion he’d ever felt, and more than anything, he’d wanted his parents to help him through it.
And the fact that they couldn’t only made it worse.
Max still clung to the belief that his father would come back for him.
If they asked the court to declare Sam Bailey deceased, they would take that hope away.
Logan’s heart ached at the prospect of putting Max through that kind of pain—the kind of pain that had left a lasting wound on his own heart.
Yes, he and Abby would be there for him, to help him heal in any and every way they could. And yes, in the long run, the stability of adoption seemed like the healthiest route for Max. But what if they got it wrong?
What if, in trying to do right by Max, they only made things worse?
“Can I think about it?” he asked at last.
“Of course. This is a big decision. Take your time.” Carla closed the file.
Logan felt Abby’s gaze boring into him, but he couldn’t look at her. Not when he could already picture the gut-piercing glint of betrayal in her eyes.
All Abby had ever wanted was to be a mother. Would she forgive him for getting in the way of her heart’s greatest desire?